Hello, I Must Be Going

That was quite an outing by the Angels’ John Lackey yesterday as he made his first start of the season. Two ridiculous brushback pitches and straight to the showers. It was the kind of blatant unprofessionalism that makes the Rangers think they actually have a chance in that division.

Ian Kinsler, the Rangers’ leadoff hitter, had belted two home runs in Friday night’s game. There had also been a quote in the Dallas Morning News from Texas outfielder Marlon Byrd, suggesting that Lackey “better bring his ‘A’ game” as he came off the disabled list. In any case, Lackey, a native Texan, was ready for battle. Forget trying to establish some command in a long-awaited start. His first pitch sailed behind Kinsler, and then he plunked him in the ribs.

This couldn’t have been more intentional if Lackey had thrown a pile of rocks. This is a man with impeccable control, and he wouldn’t have taken the mound against the Angels’ biggest rival (in this year’s division, at least) if he didn’t feel ready to perform at the highest level. Instead, like an idiot, he goes overboard trying to make a point.

Maybe the ejection was an overreaction by plate umpire Bob Davidson, who tossed Lackey without even given him a warning. Whatever. He deserved to get tossed. He had plenty of time to work the inside part of the plate against Kinsler and the rest of the Texas hitters, to let them know they’d be in for a long day. Instead, he went psycho. Take a hike.

Down in the clubhouse later, writers heard the usual excuses from Lackey and manager Mike Scioscia. Just to give you an example, Scioscia called the notion of Lackey throwing at Kinsler “absurd.” Well, Mike, he just threw at him, twice, clear as day. Good show by Kinsler, by the way. He just took his base, knowing his team had established an advantage about 40 seconds into the game.

3-DOTTING: Why do the Rangers have a chance? Because Kinsler, one of the most dangerous hitters in the game, leads off. That’s a serious lineup, a mine field for any pitcher . . . See if you can digest this bit of information as the Giants and Mets close out their four-game series tonight: Over the first three games, playing without baserunning catalyst Jose Reyes, the Mets have stolen thirteen bases, almost all of them due to careless work by the pitching staff. Mike Krukow was really steamed after the Mets stole third twice against Brian Wilson Friday night, costing the Giants a game, and he blew off some of that steam on the postgame rap. Excellent. As he said, this is the big leagues. Part of pitching is the art of holding runners on, mixing up your looks, and it’s a little embarrassing to be found lacking . . . You might say the A.J. Hinch hiring isn’t going too well for Arizona. The team is just as horrible as ever (losing six of eight), and former pitching coach Bryan Price, who resigned when Bob Melvin was fired, told the Marin Independent Journal, “The hiring of A.J. was a poor decision. He’s worked hard in player development, but he doesn’t have the credibility between the lines as a manager. For me, that just wasn’t going to work.” . . . As ESPN called up a piece on LeBron James and the long history of heartbreak in Cleveland sports, we were reminded of one of the worst calls ever made at the climax of a World Series. During the Florida Marlins’ 1997 season, Joe Angel (who spent many years in the Giants’ booth), came up with a signature call, “And the Marlins are in the win column!” after every victory. It’s a terrible call, to be honest, but by God, that became his trademark. So now Edgar Renteria singles up the middle to win the whole thing. Marlins win the title, go crazy. And what was Angel’s call? “The Marlins are in the win column!” Yeah, no kidding. Great day in the column.

In remembering the late Dom DiMaggio, the New York Times uncovered a great interview surrounding the end of his 34-game hitting streak in 1949. As the story goes, the streak ended when he was robbed by his brother, Joe, on a sinking line drive at Fenway Park. Actually, said Dom, it was a hard liner up the middle, just missing the head of pitcher Vic Raschi, “and as soon as I hit it, I said, OK, that’s 35. But that ball refused to drop. Joe is standing out there in center field, and he didn’t have to move. He said it himself later. So there was no effort on his part. It wasn’t a great play by him, like they’re still saying today. I just hit the ball too damn hard!” . . . Speaking of nostalgia, here’s a fine entry from a regular reader named Herb: “In the summer of 1957, I was awaiting the beginning of my seventh-grade year. We still had no baseball on the west coast, but we studied the game and our baseball cards intensely, and my idol was Ted Williams. That year, at the age of 39, Ted hit .388 with 38 home runs in 420 at-bats, also slugging .731. He scored 96 runs and struck out 43 times. He also set the record for the most times intentionally walked in a season. To my stolid way of thinking, that is the season against which all other subsequent seasons must be measured. Williams was the player who straddled the two eras–segregation and integration–and was equally dominant in both. Nothing Barry Bonds did, pre-steroids, is even in the same universe as Ted’s 1957 season.”